


Paper Heart

by Eavenne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Car Accidents, Coma, Death Wish, F/M, Hallucinations, Unrequited Love, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 04:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eavenne/pseuds/Eavenne
Summary: There's a legend. If you fold a thousand paper cranes, you can wish for anything in the world, and it will come true.When Erika's brother falls into a coma, she finds that it's the only thing that she can do.And she'll have to face the consequences.





	Paper Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is by Symphony Lane, and can be found here: https://aminoapps.com/c/hetalian-jet/page/item/1000-paper-cranes/mPkD_MwS0IRM1qJxrM5k1lEVKvXnXwbXb1
> 
> All the workings of the paper crane folding are from the page listed, but everything else is my own invention. Thanks to Symphony for letting me use their AU. 
> 
> Human names:
> 
> Liechtenstein = Erika  
> Switzerland = Basch  
> Austria = Roderich  
> Hungary = Erzsébet

0

He used to tower over her.

It had always been like that – they were distant as the earth and the moon, for seven years and immeasurable memories and the knowledge of a different life stretched between them – he was a mountain, he was immovable, he was strong and sturdy and stern.

He was her brother, and there was no one more perfect than him.

And yet, mountains could crumble.

0

Once the shock had passed, she called Roderich.

An hour later, he met her outside the hospital. “How did it happen?” he asked, though she’d already told him – something passed between them in that moment, perhaps a shared bewilderment and helplessness – and so Erika repeated herself. 

It had been raining. The driver had been drinking. It was dark. It was quiet.

And her brother had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“How dare that man,” said Roderich, his hands in trembling fists. “After what happened last time – ”

Yes – it had happened the same way, hadn’t it? A drunk driver had lost control of his car, and killed her parents. 

Their parents.

0

He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

Erika took his hand, and tried not to think about the chill that clung to his skin. It didn’t make sense; the once-clear road before her seemed to have folded in on itself, and now nothing was the same anymore.

Time dragged by, gnawing at her. 

For he’d been in a coma for a week, and she didn’t know what to do.

0

The wedding went on as planned.

Though Roderich had no best man, the occasion was a success. He married Erzsébet in a flurry of flowers, and for a few hours he was able to smile as if nothing had happened.

Erika hugged him tightly. “My brother would have wanted to be here,” she said.

Roderich squeezed her hand. “I know. I wanted him to be here. He’s my best man, after all, and we’ve been friends for such a long time.” He paused. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. The words seemed to struggle on his lips.

“It’s fine,” she replied, releasing him. “I’m happy for you, and I know my brother is, too.”

But speaking on Basch’s behalf didn’t seem right, and both of them knew it.

0

He’d always stood proud and tall.

Day by day, his figure seemed to shrink before her eyes – suddenly his skin was pale, and the muscles in his arms were slowly dissolving – yet he was still the person who had held her hand and led her through life’s challenges. He was still one of her closest friends, her confidante, the hard shoulder that she leaned on and cried on. He was still amazing in every way, utterly unmovable and endlessly brave and always knowing what to do and never needing anything.

He was still her beloved brother.

And Erika was going to save him.

5

There was a legend.

If you folded a thousand paper cranes, you could wish for anything in the world and it would come true. 

Perhaps it was silly, but there was nothing else that Erika could do. And she needed to do something, anything at all; she couldn’t just sit still and watch her brother slowly wither away.

That night, she folded five before going to bed.

27

She’d gotten better at it.

Her fingers, quickened by embroidery, devoted themselves to their new mission. It became a lot simpler, because now Erika didn’t have to think. 

She just had to fold.

50

“Do you want to continue?”

Her hands stilled. There’d been a voice in her head – in an instant it had disappeared, but she could’ve sworn that it was there –

“Do you want to continue?”

There it was again; perhaps the legend was true, and by doing this she really would –

“Yes!” 

It was impossible, but she had to try.

213

Roderich returned from his honeymoon.

“It was hot,” he said. “And wet.” 

Together, they gazed at her brother’s prone body. 

“How long has it been?” he asked, drawing closer. When Erika told him, his fingers tightened on the bedrails.

“A month?” he breathed.

Yes – that was why she’d been working harder than ever, but Erika didn’t mention it. Instead, Roderich whipped to face her, his eyes blazing.

“That scumbag,” he growled. “Was he sent to prison?”

Erika said yes, and Roderich nodded firmly. “Good, he deserved it.”

They looked back at Basch. “It’s just not right to see him lying there,” said Roderich. “He’s always been so careful, and I never imagined that…”

But it had happened, and that was why she had to do something about it.

354

Her grades plunged.

“Do you want to study with me?” her friend asked, but Erika shook her head. It was difficult to concentrate on anything now – in class, her fingers flexed restlessly, itching to fold more paper cranes. 

It became more than just a pastime; the need to fold gaped wide like the maw of a big cat, and consumed her. It was an obsession, and Erika could think and do nothing else; yet it was all for her brother’s sake, and she would do anything for him. 

He’d done so much for her, after all, and she wasn’t going to lose him.

475

Roderich visited that day.

There were only ever three people who came – Erika, her guardian, and Roderich. She’d always known that her brother was something of a loner, but only now did she understand how truly alone her brother really was.

It was an odd realisation.

“You know,” said Roderich, “your brother has always been there for me. When I was discouraged, or upset or…” he made a vague gesture, “falling hopelessly in love. I could always trust his judgement, and lean on him.” 

She could only smile. “I know,” said Erika, for it was true.

But Roderich frowned, shifting in his seat. “Yet,” he said, “I feel as though I’ve never returned the favour. When…” he glanced at Erika, “when your parents died, I didn’t know how to help your brother. We were just nine, and I honestly don’t think I’d grasped the meaning of…loss. Or death. And…you know, they died right in front of him.”

She’d only been two years old. “It’s okay,” said Erika. “I don’t think he holds it against you.”

Besides, she hadn’t even known that Basch had witnessed their parents’ death. 

Roderich shook his head. “And when we were fifteen, he…shut down. I didn’t know what happened – I still don’t know what happened – but he wasn’t well, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Roderich looked down. “Well,” he said after a moment of hesitation, “his grades slipped, and he just seemed very…negative, and apathetic. I kept asking what was wrong, but he insisted he was fine. Eventually he opened up to me a little, but everything he just mentioned was just so – so massive, and nothing I said could solve his problems, or convince him that it was going to be alright.” He looked up. “And then after a month everything slowly went back to normal, and…it was like nothing ever happened.” He turned to her. “Do you remember it?”

Her mind whirled.

“No,” she said eventually. “I don’t remember it.”

So, she didn’t know her brother as well as she’d thought.

667

She was going insane.

Omnipresent as air, the voice chorused insistently in her head, booming between her ears. “Come on,” it whispered, “fold more cranes. You’re more than halfway there; you can do it; just fold, and fold on, and keep folding…”

Sleep should have been a relief, but her dreams were haunted by shadows and stalked by ghosts. Waking was a nightmare – all at once the need to fold more cranes would crash through her body like a tidal wave, and Erika could think of nothing else.

It was all for her brother; everything would make sense in the end, because she was doing it for him – that was what she had to believe. 

For if she gave up, she was certain that something terrifying would happen.

749

Her hands ached and bled.

The paper gnawed at her fingers, gleefully staining itself red with blood. 

It hurt so much but she couldn’t stop, and even as the paper sliced at her hands and sliced through her bandages and sliced into the wounds underneath, Erika continued, for it was too late to give in. It hurt so much that she wanted nothing more but to hide in the safety of her brother’s embrace, but he wasn’t there, and her world wasn’t secure any longer. 

He wasn’t there, and perhaps he never would be.

854

She found herself in her brother’s room.

Nothing had changed, except that he was absent – his laptop still lay on the desk, unopened, and the drawers that hid pistols remained locked. Yet his presence seemed to linger in the air, and Erika’s trembling hands were soothed with every breath that she took. 

It was calming, and for a moment she felt as though her brother were by her side once more. Slipping into the chair at his desk and resting her head on the table, Erika gazed distantly at the floor. 

Whenever she’d needed help, he had been there to solve her problems. Whenever she’d been upset, his shoulder had been available for her to cry on. 

Had she ever done the same for him?

Somehow Erika couldn’t think of an incident when her brother had struggled, or cried, or really needed her at all; he was fiercely independent, secure in his self-sufficiency, intelligent and hardworking and decisive and resilient.

He’d never talked about his feelings, after all, and –

Suddenly the edge of a piece of paper cried out for her attention, and Erika’s fingers twitched – but instead of a fresh sheet of pain, she was met with the sight of a crumpled ball in the wastepaper bin.

And she could recognise her brother’s handwriting anywhere. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have done it, but Erika snatched the crushed paper and smoothed it out. It’d been too long since she’d seen that neat hand, precise and sharp and so warmly familiar.

She’d missed it.

Several words and lines had been struck out, but Erika read them nonetheless. _"Congratulations,"_ her brother had written, before trying _"Today, my best friend, Roderich, is marrying Miss Erzsébet Héderváry."_ That had been rejected as well; the final version read _"I first met Roderich when we were seven."_

It seemed that this was an aborted version of his speech as Roderich’s best man.

_"I was passing by, and I heard him play the piano. I don’t remember what the piece was, but Roderich was already an amazing pianist, and I know I stood there for some time, listening to him play. Then he opened the window and spoke to me, his mother invited me in, and we got to know each other."_

It was a story that Erika had heard before.

 _"We’ve been friends ever since. It’s been fourteen years since then, and we’ve had the occasional falling-out, but Roderich has never failed me. He’s – "_ several adjectives were crossed out there – "kind", "caring", supportive" – _"– incredible."_ That was the word that her brother had eventually settled on. 

_"He’s always been there for me. Back when my parents died, he tried to help me feel better, and that really meant a lot to me."_

A few sentence starters had been crossed out before her brother continued. _"Thank you, Roderich. I don’t think you know how much you mean to me. Thank you for staying by my side. In freshman year I was falling to pieces, but you didn’t leave me. You were worried about me. You wrote me a letter telling me that I could go to you for anything, and that you would always be rooting for me."_

Her eyes widened.

_"I still have that letter – I’ve kept it for six years. I’ve read it so many times – sometimes I still take it out and reread it, when I need something to keep me going. So, thank you, Roderich. Thank you so much."_

Her mouth was dry.

_"You’re amazing. You don’t know how you make me feel. When I’m around you, my worries just melt away, and I feel better about things. I like myself more when I’m with you. I become a better person when you’re there. Your music is beautiful, and I know you’re destined for greatness. And when you succeed, I’ll be there to support you. Thanks for believing in me. I believe in you too."_

Something was off. 

_"This isn’t a proper speech, is it?"_ she read, and suddenly she could almost see her brother sitting there, writing, glancing at Roderich’s letter on his table as his heart silently bled onto the paper.

_"I could never say this to you. I’ve never been able to tell you anything."_

She shouldn’t be reading something so personal. 

But Erika couldn't stop.

_"But I don’t know if I can do this. I shouldn’t have agreed to this.”_ His handwriting had dissolved into a shaky mess. _“I’m supposed to congratulate you on your marriage, and wish you the best. But I can’t. Because I don’t want you to get married."_

She’d reached the end of the page. Slowly, hesitantly, she flipped to the other side.

_"I think I’m in love with you."_

There were only four words left. 

_"But it’s too late."_

Then he’d crushed the paper and thrown it and gone out.

And he hadn’t come home.

Suddenly Erika wondered what he’d been thinking as the car swerved into him, its headlights swaying dizzily into his chest – perhaps his life had flashed before his eyes, and he’d seen their parents die in front of him once again even as he thought of Roderich and how it was now too late to tell him anything at all –

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking through her tears. 

Perhaps she hadn’t really known her brother at all.

934

He was crossing the street.

Her eyes widened and she ran forward but her feet were frozen to the sidewalk, and she reached out to him but he was too far away, and she screamed his name but the groans of traffic smothered her small voice.

Then the vehicle of death was breaths away from him, and suddenly he turned to see the unknown breathing smoke into his face –

Her eyes flew open and she sat upright, casting her gaze desperately about. She was in her room, bound by the tangled sheets of her bed. So it was just a dream.

“But I’m still here,” he said, and Erika’s breath caught in her throat.

She turned.

There he was, standing in the doorway – but he wasn’t the brother she remembered, for his eyes were dull and his frame was thin and that familiar warmth had deserted the cold, hard lines of his face.

“I’m still here,” Basch repeated, taking a step forward, “because of you.”

Even his voice was frigid.

“You know about the cranes?” she asked, running a thumb over her bandages. 

He laughed. “Of course. You’re trying to save me, aren’t you?” 

She leapt from the bed. “Yes.” That was her only wish. “I _have_ to help you.”

“Why?” 

Her mouth went dry. “What?”

“Why do you want to help me?” he asked – suddenly he stood inches before her, and his eyes blazed with some undecipherable emotion. “ _Why_ , Erika? When you’ve never helped me before?”

Something caught in her throat. “No, I – ” she started, but her voice was weak and pathetic. “I’m sorry,” whispered Erika, “I’m sorry. But I love you, and I don’t want you to die. So, please – ”

“Maybe I don’t want to come back.” His voice was ragged, but Basch tore on. “Maybe I’ve had enough.”

“No – ”

“You don’t know anything about me.” His gaze seared her skin. “You don’t know anything about the hell I live in.” 

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You never told me anything.” 

“You never cared.” He withdrew from her, turning silently away. “You don’t know how much I hate myself. And now you’re going to bring me back.” 

The world blurred before her eyes. “Please,” whispered Erika, “I – ”

In one abrupt movement, Basch whipped around to face her.

“You don’t have the right,” he snarled, “to force me to live.”

His words slapped her.

It was all too much, and she drew her knees to her chest and buried her head and cried – the air was hostile, pressing at her body with the weight of countless emotions she’d never experienced before – but when Erika raised her head, Basch was gone.

It was almost like he’d never been there at all.

999

She couldn’t fold anymore.

Though the voice hissed in her ear and the paper shrieked her name, Erika’s hands were frozen.

Sometimes she’d see him there, his expression furious and hurt at once, his angered gaze raking at her eyes and scratching through her bandages to the wounds beneath. 

“I’m sorry,” she tried to say, but she had no voice.

She couldn’t fold on.

Not with him watching.

999

999

1000

He opened his eyes.

0

0

0

0

0

0

It's over now

“Are you happy to be back?” his sister asked, watching him intently. Something had changed about her – Basch couldn’t quite place it, but an odd unease seemed to toss and turn in those large eyes.

He thought about her question.

“I think so,” he said finally.

He wondered why she’d asked.


End file.
